The Dark Savior
by CaliTigeress
Summary: Begins sometime after The Dark Knight. A horrendous attack is made on a woman in Gotham and only Batman can save her, but can she save him as well? Rated M for violence, should be more chapters coming, but we'll see. Hope you enjoy...
1. Chapter 1

He could hear the belted notes of some pop song streaming from under the wooden door and although he should have been well away from this place, this building, he couldn't resist the very human urge to investigate. Creeping silently so as not to disturb the woman inside who was singing with such gusto, he made his way to the door and inched it open. A foggy glass panel blurred her image and the running water of the shower didn't alert the girl to his presence until he slid the shower door open.

She swung around turning off the water in one fluid motion. He stepped into the rectangular box oozing bravado and confidence.

"Well it's not going to be over when you sing." He chuckled. The shock at being caught naked in the bathroom by a man had not only deprived her of speech but also a sense of humor. The man smiled even though she hadn't understood or appreciated his joke. "Well, you're so skinny… you couldn't possibly be the show stopping fat lady." She slowly slid away from him until she was trapped up against a tiled wall, trying to cover herself up as she went. Her chest was heaving more rapidly as her mind began to process the fact that a man in a purple suit had appeared in her shower. He watched her blank expression morph into fear and then… something else.

"Who says I want to stop the show?" she panted. The man threw his head back in shock, letting out a series of hearty guffaws.

"Hmmm…" he said smacking his lips in what seemed to be a habitual twitch. "You're quite a pretty young thing. Quite a bit of spunk, but you've stopped singing. With such a pretty voice we wouldn't want you to stop…" Just as his voice took on a menacing tone, she tried to bolt. His gloved hands tangled in soggy brown hair, and he slammed her up against the slippery wall. She struggled for a few instants, then went still as unfeeling leather gloves began to close around her throat.

"Please," she strangled out. He only leered. Her green eyes opened wider with fear as, from deep in a coat pocket, he pulled out a small but lethal looking knife.

"Do you want to know how I got these scars?" he asked while she gasped for air. "You see my…it's not important," he said licking his lips again. "Because people are going to be wondering the same thing when they look at you." His face was mere centimeters away from hers, he could feel the steam rolling off her forehead and cheeks. "It would be a shame to ruin such a pretty mouth." Her breathing was ragged and her eyes dilated as he ran the knife down the side of her cheek, over her neck, down past her collarbone.

"Sing," he commanded as he applied pressure and the knife slid into the skin over her sternum. A whimper escaped from pink lips and he watched as her body tensed and her hands clenched. "Now that's hardly even a noise." The knife slid lower, deeper. She tried to squirm away from the pain, but the hand on her throat and cold tile on her back wouldn't give. She was stuck. The cut of the knife proceeded down across her navel and scraped over hip bone then suddenly let up. She opened her eyes in surprise and she locked eyes with her eccentrically garbed and made over captor. "Now that… was better." He cackled, sliding the blade back and forth over her stomach. Each time it passed over her exposed flesh rivulets of blood streamed down her body. Water mixed with blood to become a pink liquid that pooled on the shower floor. She cried out while he laughed. He savoured her pain while she sang out a melody that only he could wrench from her body.

Finally her eyes slid closed blood loss and pain taking a toll on the small body beneath the Joker's sadistic hands. She slumped from his grasp to the floor. He pulled out his calling card, turned on the shower water, and exited the tiny cell and the apartment that contained it.

He couldn't believe he lost him. The Joker had escaped his clutches once again and now he was left wandering the rooftops of Gotham trying to locate the murderer who always seemed to be two steps ahead. Sirens echoed off buildings a few blocks away, and Batman tried to locate any sound out of the ordinary which could aid him in finding his quarry. A child was crying in an apartment three floors below him, a cab driver was yelling at the blue Mercedes in front of him, the sounds of Gotham were just that, sounds. Nothing was out of the ordinary; even a couple was having sex in a flat right beneath his feet. Her boyfriend must have surprised her in the shower because she had been gustily singing ABBA before the interruption. Now the girl's moans were approaching screams. He was just about to jump off the roof and scout a different part of the city for his nemesis when the cries lost their huskiness and gained the high pitched sound of agony.

Within seconds he had swung off the roof and into the small apartment shattering glass as he went. A flash of a too white face and a red smirk rushing through the front door was enough to alert Batman that he had been careless. A small bomb, fuse sputtering with fire, rolled next to his black boots. Leaping away from the explosive he hurtled over the couch, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut right before the bomb detonated. Smouldering ashes and blackened furniture could be seen through the hole in the door. Trying to get a feel for his surroundings, the caped crusader surveyed the wreckage then glanced around the room he was standing in, and there on the floor of the shower was a sight he had not expected to see. The woman's skin was dead white stripped with crimson.

Rushing over Batman grabbed a towel off the rack, wrapped it around the dying girl, and exited the way he came, blood and water streaming behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Below the cellars of the newly rebuilt Wayne Manor, a fight was taking place. Syringes, needles, gauze and other medical supplies were being thrown around in a frenzy. Two men were bent over the prostrate form of a slim brunette. Blood was leaking over the side of the metal table and the flurried movements of the men only put into greater contrast the immobility of the woman.

"Alfred, go get some more towels." Batman had removed his terrifying garb and now dressed in a white shirt and slacks he was turned surgeon instead of superhero. The older man rushed over to an elevator and disappeared. Bruce surveyed the damage that had been wreaked by the Joker. There was a six inch gash running down the girl's middle from sternum to belly button. Another large slash ran from the bottom of the six inch gash to her right hipbone. The bone was visible and it was a miracle that the Joker had not hit vital organs. A smaller cut was diagonal on her left side and there were a series of small lacerations above her breasts, by her collarbone. He had already injected morphine, a sedative and a coagulant into her system, but at the rate she was losing blood they weren't going to stay in for long. He began to curse in a mixture of Mandarin and English when he realized he was fighting a losing battle.

"Master Wayne, may I offer my advice?" Bruce looked up at the man who had acted as his father since the death of his own.

"What Alfred?" he said exasperatedly. There was blood on his white pressed shirt and frustration etched into his features.

"I think we should take this young woman to the hospital."

"And how would it look if I, Bruce Wayne, show up with a girl ravaged by a knife."

"Give her to Gordon. Go put on your Batsuit and give her to the Commisioner." Bruce looked as if he was about to argue. "You can't fight every battle yourself, Master Wayne, and if you don't get her actual medical help she's going to lose her fight to live." Bruce nodded tersely, not liking to have the situation out of his hands, to not be able to help. He went over to a control panel and pressed a couple of buttons. A metal and glass case slid open to reveal the only thing that kept Batman and Bruce Wayne separate. He quickly changed as Alfred put more towels on the dying woman.

When he was ready he scooped the fragile and very light body into his arms and into a sleek black car. He carefully deposited her body on the seat and revved up the engine. Alfred made a motion, and Batman rolled down the window.

"Since you're taking the Rolls remember to return with a full tank of gas." The Batman laughed with the only person who could make him laugh while in the suit.

"You'll be lucky if it comes back in one piece," he said, voice gravelly. Then putting the car in gear he roared out of the cave and onto the streets of Gotham.

"Gordon," commanded the Batman. The car responded immediately.

"Calling Commissioner Gordon," responded the car's automated system. The phone began to ring and was picked up within seconds of the first annoying chime.

"I thought we agreed to not contact eachother."

"Well, if the Joker played by the rules we wouldn't be talking. Meet me at the parking garage next to the new hospital. Third level, the camera doesn't work in the far back corner." There was an urgency in his voice that made Jim Gordon nervous.

"This better be good. We could lose both our heads if we're caught together…" but all Jim Gordon heard was the dial tone.

Batman looked over at the girl. Her hair had started to dry and it was now a golden brown color. Blood was just starting to ooze through the towel, so apparently the coagulant agent was working. He turned his eyes back to the road and with ease and speed he navigated the Rolls Royce through the streets. He took alleys and short cuts to get him to the parking structure in the shortest possible time, and once he arrived he was thankful that his only ally was already parked in the prearranged spot. With tires screeching on concrete he pulled into the parking space next to Gordon's cop car. He swung open the door and carefully picked up the pale body.

Gordon didn't even flinch when he saw the Batman step out of a car with what looked like a dead body. The fact that it was a woman and that she was quite naked was definitely a reason for a closer look.

"I found her in an apartment on the Upper East Side," Rumbled the masked man. "I did what I could but it's not enough."

"I'll take her and you can leave the address in a message. The Joker is getting more sadistic each day, but my force is divided trying to catch him and you, so I can't focus all my energy on finding him." He said it as an apology. Batman nodded.

"How…?" Gordon looked pointedly looked down at the girl flopped almost dead in Batman's arms. Blood had seeped all the way through the towel, and now that he wasn't assessing her for damage, Batman could see the large J and a crude etching of "smile" on the towel.


	3. Chapter 3

"He's baiting me," Bruce said angrily slamming drawers and cabinets in Wayne Manor's state of the art kitchen. "He kills Rachel and then defaces the body of a poor innocent young woman and leaves her for dead in her bathroom, and I can never catch him! He eludes me at every turn and I'm beginning to become obsessed with him. It's eating me alive, Alfred, not being able to catch the one who killed Rachel. I can't…"

"You can," stated Alfred simply, "And where Bruce Wayne fails, Batman endures. You may go a little over the top every once and a while, Master Wayne," with this Bruce smiled. "But you have never crossed the lines that the Joker chooses not to see. You may bend the rules a little, but you have never broken them. For that I am extremely proud and I know your father would be too." Bruce didn't know what to say and luckily his other cell phone rang.

"What's happened?" he asked, immediately retreating from human into Gotham's protector.

"Nothing," Gordon said. "For once. Just thought you might want to know that your mystery woman is in the ICU, third floor, the doctors think she'll make it."

"Has she woken up yet."

"No, still unconscious, but she's stable and breathing on her own."

"What room?"

"315," said Gordon skeptically. "But you can't…" The line was dead again.

"She's alive," said Bruce with relief.

"You should always trust me, Sir," said Alfred, exiting the room before Bruce could make a snappy comeback. Bruce, still restless left the kitchen and headed down to the cave concealed beneath the southeast corner of the house. After arriving in what he had dubbed the Batcave while joking around with Alfred, he began to search the internet for news stories pertaining to the woman's assault. Headlines like "Woman Brutally Attacked" and "Joker Makes His Mark" crisscrossed Gotham's breaking news sites, but none of the articles revealed the name or identity of the brown-haired victim. The stories all said that Commissioner Gordon had been alerted by the Bat-man that a woman was injured in an uptown apartment. The stories, like they always did, regressed from the brutal attack and almost murder to the fact that Batman was no longer a savior instead a rampant killer that had to be brought to justice. Bruce sighed. He didn't know how long it would take until he could stop skulking around the city trying to dodge police officers and fight crime at the same time. The Joker, still running loose, was no match for the authorities and yet the stubborn people of Gotham couldn't drop their antagonism of Batman. He needed to catch this maniac for good, but he kept slipping through everyone's, even Batman's fingers.

He couldn't sit still any longer, couldn't stare at the pictures of a mutilated torso, knowing the man who had put them there was still loose. Donning his suit, mask and gadgets he decided to take the Batmobile out for a spin. Fox had designed a sleeker version of the Tumbler and Batman had yet to test her full capabilities. Maybe he would meet up with the Joker on his night roaming, then Batman could pay him back cut for cut of the mystery woman's injuries. Batman smiled at the thought of the fight to come.

Screaming down streets and over tarry asphalt, Batman tried to take out his aggression on the gas pedal and tight turns. Gotham's streets had never been emptier and so the city had become the playground of its stalwart protector. He had to focus every ounce of concentration on driving and therefore didn't have to think of the girl who almost died because he couldn't catch a maniac. How many people would be close or dead before he had finally put the Joker away for good. He broke out of every prison he was put in, and Batman couldn't leave him to roam the 

streets. With the incident of today looming in his mind he wasn't too surprised to see the newest addition to the Gotham landscape appear before him.

The Dawes Hospital was pristine and state of the art. Doctors had been flown in from every part of the country and world. Nothing was below par and if Bruce Wayne had anything to say about it, nothing would be. The building was imposing and yet it still managed to look homey. Bruce Wayne had made sure of that too. The building had cost a fortune and furnishing it had cost even more, but if it was to have Rachel's name on it… it would be nothing short of perfect. Bruce had also been able to give back to the city and it was nice to have their loving approval for at least one half of his person. Bruce Wayne was adored while Batman was hunted.

Batman sneered, hating the fickle nature of the mob, but that was the price he had to pay as the guardian of such a twisted city, so desperately in need of saving. While thinking of these much more philosophical topics, he had casually and with not too much screeching of tires, had stowed away the Batmobile. It took him mere minutes to scale three floors and locate room 315. Luckily Batman knew just how to disable the alarms, a perk if your billionaire alter-ego drew up the designs for the building, and within seconds of reaching the room he had successfully broken in.

The walls were a soft white and the bed was standard issue, but the girl and the wounds that had been inflicted on her were probably one of a kind. Honey brown hair was fanned out over the stacked pillows and a pink that Batman had never seen, had returned to her cheeks. The hospital robe concealed the night's toll on her body and if Batman hadn't seen her so close to death earlier, he would have thought she was peacefully sleeping. An IV had been carefully placed in her left arm and her heart monitor was beeping at a steady, even rate. Batman had been too caught up in the whirlwind of blood and water to really notice the physical appearance of the girl, but now with the soft glow of moonlight and dimmed fluorescents he noticed she had freckles sprinkled across a button nose. She had long black lashes and high cheekbones. She looked to be 5'7" or 5'8" but it was hard to tell while she was lying down. If forced to place her age, he would have guessed 20 or 22. She was skinny and he began to wonder if she was a model. She had been living in the nicer side of town and what he remembered of her apartment, before it had gotten blown up, was definitely a certain flair. It was strange, if she was so well off, that he had not met her in the Bruce Wayne circle. He wondered if she would be surprised to find she was alive. She hadn't been conscious since the attack in the bathroom, and he mused over the fact that for seconds maybe even minutes, she had been dead. Had she seen the light? Would she be glad to be back? There was only a blue-green ring of a bruise around her throat; she hadn't been beaten into submission or held at gunpoint, but the Joker's signature knife would probably have the same effect as an AK-47.

He turned to leave. There was no information to be gained from a highly sedated female and all the time wasted staring at her admittedly gorgeous body was not bringing the Joker any closer to justice.

"I'm sorry," she rasped out. Batman paused in the window frame. He turned around staring at the girl. "I'm sorry," she managed to moan out again, tears leaking from the most striking green eyes Batman, or even Bruce Wayne, had ever seen.


	4. Chapter 4

"What?" In his complete shock, he broke from gravelly Batman, to perplexed Bruce Wayne.

"I tried…the news…got away…" the tears and the apparent damage to her throat did not help her get the message across.

"Shh, don't talk," Batman persona returning. "You can tell the authorities your story tomorrow, when you're fully awake and able to talk."

"Didn't do it," long wheezing breath. "For the authorities."

"Do what?" asked Batman, incredulous and impatient. He wasn't about to waste the night on some whimpering female, so jacked up on drugs she made absolutely no sense.

"Tried to make him stay… knew you were near… could have caught him… didn't hold out long enough…" her sentences were so interrupted by gasping breaths and her voice so low and raspy, Batman almost missed the meaning of her words. He jumped off the window sill back into the clean hospital room.

"You did what?!" Anger flooded through Batman and the young woman tensed at his menacing tone. Fear had chased the tears out of her eyes and she began to hyperventilate. The Bat-man strode purposefully up to the bed as her eyes began to screw up with agony. The combination of panting and a bruised trachea were taking a toll on her pain tolerance and slowly she began to fade into black.

"Breathe," whispered Batman into her ear.

"I am!" she strangled out.

"Slowly." The command was said with the smile and the knowledge that Gotham's vigilante no longer wanted to punch her, gave her the ability to slow her breathing and again open her eyes.

"Now what were you trying to say?"

"Right before I got in the shower," she started. Her voice became steadier even though it still remained raspy. "I saw the news report on your fight with the Joker. The place was really close to my flat, and at first I was scared, but I thought you'd handle it, and since it was breaking news, it was still going on. I got in the shower and then the Joker showed up." She paused taking a couple of deep, even breaths. "I knew he was probably going to kill me, but that I had to intrigue him into staying. If I wasted enough of his time, you'd be along to catch him and save the day. I'd die, but at least you'd get the Joker…"

"How old are you?" he asked incredulously.

"Twenty-one. I'll be 22 in…" she thought about it. "Four months."

"You were willing to throw away your life at the age of 21?"

"I'm not afraid to die," she said, immediately sobering up. "And if I had helped to catch that maniac, it would have been worth it. One for one-thousand." Batman must have made some sort of gesture to indicate his bewilderment because she continued. "My laying down of one life, mine, could save one thousand or maybe even more. Those are odds I am willing to take."

"You thought of all of this, while in the shower when the Joker arrived?" She nodded.

"Batman can't save the Gotham all by himself."

"I can." She shook her head lazily as sedatives were pumped into her bloodstream.

"Someone knows your secret, Batman. Someone helps you out, and every action made from a nobody like me, can either help or harm you. It was my time to help." Green eyes stared piercingly into his own, "You've got a very sexy voice. Did you know that?" Her eyes glazed over and slid shut while her body relaxed into the pile of pillows.

Batman stood in the hospital room, dumbfounded. Although Batman was timeless, Bruce Wayne was approaching his 29th birthday, and he was not ready to die. He, as Batman, had so much left to do in repairing Gotham, that even though he was willing to risk his life every time the sun went down; he was not willing to actually die. She had determination and spunk. Had she not, after being brutalized by the city's most notorious killer, called the city's most notorious 

protector his voice was sexy? He smiled. He'd never thought of using his Batman persona to pick up chicks, but what else would Bruce Wayne do?

There were footsteps in the hall, and the door squeaked open to reveal the night nurse, in to check on the Joker's latest prey. Her heart rate monitor had been up, and she wondered if the girl would be awake, or even sane enough to talk to the cops in the morning. She checked the girl's stats and turned abruptly when she thought she saw something large and black in the corner of her eye. A breeze blew in from an open window and the stout woman rushed over to the window sill. There was nothing there.

Batman looked down from the building's roof on to the woman's tightly curled head. He would have to keep an eye on the girl. She was obviously too foolhardy to leave alone, and the Joker had never left someone with such an obvious calling card alive. He jumped off the building and floated down to the parking structure. He had work to do.


	5. Chapter 5

The alarm clock next to his bed signaled at exactly 6:15. He had gotten approximately 4 hours of sleep, much more than normal, though his dreams had been haunted by piercing green eyes and the devilish laughter of the Joker. He had woken up in a cold sweat when his alarm clock had buzzed him awake just as a bomb strapped to a lovely body was about to be blown to bits, but it was all just a nightmare and the whisps of dreams were melted away by the morning sun. Alfred was rounding the corner as he dropped into his first set of pushups.

"I see you didn't acquire your normal set of bumps and bruises last night, Sir."

"No, Alfred. For once I was able to do some reconnaissance without running into the police or the Joker," he said between pushups. "Of course I did meet the most unusual woman ever…" he mumbled.

"What was that last bit, Sir?"

"Nothing," he said shaking his head. "Do women ever start to make sense, Alfred?"

"Decidedly not, Master Wayne. They remain as mysterious as the Bat-man." Bruce laughed.

"Thank goodness for that, well that Batman's still mysterious, not that women continue to be idiotic and infuriating."

"And which particular woman would we be talking about now, Master Wayne?" Bruce flipped over onto his back, momentarily stopping his workout. He hesitated, staring straight up at the ceiling. "Master Wayne?"

"I went to visit that girl last night." He said almost sheepishly.

"The girl Batman saved? You're on page 3 for that stunt by the way. It's almost a nice article." Bruce snatched that morning's Gotham Gazette from Alfred's hands.

"Does it say who she is?" He asked. Alfred was surprised to hear an edge of excitement in Bruce's voice. He'd been so despondent since Rachel had died.

"No," he said. Bruce's face, instead of falling, got a determined look. "But apparently saving a damsel in distress was just the kind of publicity needed. They only mention you as a vigilante once and the reporter goes on to liken you to a protector once again." Bruce looked incredulous. "It's written by a new girl, Vicki Vale's her name… I think."

The picture next to the article was in black in white, but she was stunning: curly hair and perfect lips. Alfred was surprised to hear Bruce laugh.

"Apparently women think Batman is sexy," chuckled Bruce. "If I can pick up women in my batsuit, then there's no reason for Bruce Wayne to even exist."

"Now, Sir, no respectable girl is going to want to be chauffeured around in the Batmobile." Alfred said admonishingly.

"Very true," smiled Bruce. "I guess I'll have to go pick them up in my Lamborghini." His smile was mischievous and Alfred didn't have the heart to tell him that no respectable girl would be awake at 6:30 in the morning.

After descending into the Batcave, checking the police scanners, and the breaking news, to make sure the Joker wasn't raising hell, Bruce started to do some research of his own. He tried to run the girl's address through any sort of search engine to maybe get a name that went with the green-eyed beauty, but he kept getting "unlisted" or "not available". He even tried to run her address through police files and just as he suspected nothing turned up. She had had a slight accent, but nothing that would place exactly what city she was born in. Her apartment had been blown up, so he couldn't search there for clues, and she'd been rushed to the hospital completely naked. There was no chance that her driver's license had made it into the Batmobile or anywhere he could get his hands on it. Frustrated and thwarted, he decided, even though it was a long shot, to go search her apartment for clues. After all, he did own the building.

Sifting through ashes for hours in an Armani suit proved to be fruitless. There was nothing to indicate the girl's identity and the police had yet to release her name. Of course it was only 7 o'clock in the morning, so the girl probably hadn't woken up yet. He was glad to hear that the police were keeping an extra tight watch on the hospital and room 315 in particular. They wanted to prove to Gotham that they were as effective as the Bat-man, but both Gordon and Batman knew it wasn't true. They hadn't figured the name of the girl out either. The cops on guard had started calling her Mystery Woman instead of the customary Jane Doe and over the last half hour or so it had been shortened to Mystery. At least Batman had made the city more fanciful…

Bruce decided to head to the office. Wayne Enterprises stood not four blocks from Dawes Hospital and Bruce could see the flock of media reporters gathered around the hospital. Some were transmitting stories and others were sitting around waiting for news to break. A woman with sleek red hair was leaning up against an unmarked van. Her tape recorder was out and perfect red lips moved to form words that Bruce Wayne couldn't hear. He openly stared at the woman who had written the nicest comments about Batman in months. Vicki Vale was a looker and although she appeared to be 5'3" it was reported by her colleagues that she had an attitude that made her seem 6 foot.

An officer stepped out of the building, holding his hands up for quiet when he was barraged by thousands of questions. He stepped up to a podium and spoke into a microphone. Bruce pulled over parallel parking perfectly, got out of the flashy car, and casually leaned against it eager to hear news on Mystery.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, quiet please. I have a short statement to make and then I will answer all of your questions." He paused waiting for perfect calm. Vicki Vale glanced around the crowd of people. She spotted the philanderer, Bruce Wayne at the edge of the crowd and couldn't help but look him up and down. She hoped her stare would attract his attention but his focus remained on the cop.

"The victim of the Joker's latest attack made it through the night and she is conscious and awake. She has sustained damage to her throat as well as the damage brutally inflicted by the Joker. She has said that she preferred her name not to be released to the public yet, and will not be taking interviews for at least another day. She wanted me to publicly," at this he paused, gritting his teeth. "Thank the Bat-man and Commissioner Gordon for rescuing her." Bruce Wayne grinned at the girl's nerve. "We will be keeping a tight watch on her and this hospital for the next couple of days. We wouldn't want the Joker to finish what he started. She'll be released from the hospital in three days if she heals well and will be accepting interviews starting tomorrow. Do you have any questions?" Hands were raised; paper and microphones were shoved towards the officer. In a monotone voice he began to answer whatever crack pot questions the media came up with. Vicki Vale scanned the crowd for Bruce Wayne, but he was gone. A silver Lamborghini raced through a yellow light at the end of the block.


	6. Chapter 6

Every news station was buzzing about the brutalized woman named, for the moment, Mystery. Bruce had flipped through every decent station and even the purely music and foreign language channels were buzzing about Misteria. Debates raged about the Joker's motivation, his next move and others babbled about Batman and his helping hand. The outlook on the masked marauder had definitely improved with the damsel saving. The figure Bruce spent his nights as, was not called a cop killer or a menace the few short blocks from Dawes Hospital to Wayne Enterprises. It had to be a new record.

Pulling into his VIP parking place in his shiny Lambo made the valets and other employees stare. Bruce Wayne was never seen anywhere near Wayne Enterprises before the crack of noon unless there was an important meeting. Blackberries and palm pilots were hastily pulled from sharp suit pockets, their owners scrambling to get to their inboxes; they were completely baffled to see there was no meeting, and that Bruce Wayne, play boy extraordinaire, had risen before 12. He casually opened the door to his expensive car and sauntered the fifteen feet to the double glass doors. Upon entering he became all business. His back straightened and he walked with purpose to the elevator. Hitting the lowermost button, he was ferried up to the top floor and the offices of Lucius Fox.

"Hello, Mister Wayne," said the charismatic head of Wayne Enterprises. "Get any sleep last night?"

"More than usual." Lucius Fox looked up from his paperwork, confusion racing across his still handsome features.

"No spelunking?"

"Nope, but I do need something new for spelunking and maybe protection purposes…"

"And what would that be?"

They walked to the nearest elevator heads bent close, discussing the latest device that Batman would need.

The day dragged by for Vicki Vale. She had put in her name first to be able to talk to Mystery the next day, but until then all the news was about her. The Joker had been scarce and the Bat-man wouldn't be making an appearance until night fall. Yes, things until 8 o'clock were going to be dull. She had already returned to the office and she sat at her desk scrolling through her Inbox. Spam, an email from an old friend, more spam, something from her editor, even more spam… on a whim she checked the mail from her editor. Usually an old bore she expected nothing interesting from the man who ran the Gotham Gazette, but as fate would have it their social scene writer had been mysteriously absent for a couple of days and he was begging Vicki to attend the fashionable reopening of Wayne Manor. The cream of the crop would be attending and only a few invites had been sent to reporters. She supposed the infamous Wayne playboy had decided if you can't beat them then let them come to your parties and show them a good time so they won't write terrible reviews. She had to admire his cleverness.

The party was scheduled for Friday and it being Monday she knew she had time to get a dress and look spectacular. She wanted to attract the attentions of the host, and since he had absconded with the entire Russian ballet last year. She obviously had to be on her A game. Vicki Vale was a reporter to the very last, and lately, on the streets, she had heard rumors that a very large, black, tank-like automobile would appear around Bruce Wayne's mansion. Maybe a low cut dress, some champagne and a little seduction could go a long way towards gaining information.

Mystery didn't feel mysterious, didn't feel cool, didn't feel like anything, except sleeping and that was the one thing she couldn't do. As soon as she began to drift off she'd picture that painted grin and hear her own screams. It made it impossible to drift off. She regretted telling the nurses to take her off the sedatives. She just hated the groggy, half awake feeling it left her with. Last night, she thought she'd had an encounter with Gotham's famed Batman, but because she had been doped on so many meds she couldn't be sure. Parts had seemed real, like explaining her decision to be bait and other parts like calling him sexy… She couldn't have said that. Just because she'd been across the world thinking that when he'd taken prime spot in Gotham news didn't mean that you admit to him that he's sexy. She closed her eyes and rested against the pillows.

"Sing…", flashes of pain, she sat bolt upright staring out the window. She hadn't planned on the emotional trauma; well she hadn't planned to live, so no one could blame her for the unforeseen circumstances.

"Well, at least I will be able to play those very troubled and oh so dramatic divas that Henri is forever saying I lack the depth for," she mumbled this to no one in particular and was surprised to hear a chuckle from the darkened corner. "Fuck."

"Such language from someone so young!'

"Such cowering from someone who has already stuck a knife in me," she blurted out. She clapped her hands over her mouth as soon as she said them. Her father always said that would be the death of her.

"I'm not who you think I am," the voice was low, gravelly, familiar?

"Oh no," she moaned out collapsing against the pillows again. "I did call you sexy last night… didn't I?"

"I believe you may have mentioned it," said the masked man stepping out from the shadows. "I have some issues I need to discuss with you. They involve your safety."

"Shoot." She seemed utterly at ease, which confused Batman. Most people cowered or stammered, or did something out of the ordinary. This 20 something girl just sat there like nothing in the world was wrong. "I'm an actress…"

"What?" he said angrily. He didn't need more distractions.

"The reason I'm sitting here so calmly. I act. That's what I do. I graduated high school with honors and joined a Shakespeare troupe, and one thing led to another, I became quite famous and now I act. Oh and I babble when I'm nervous… crap." Batman's anger dissipated. This girl had some way of being shockingly direct. Her drugged confession on the first night startled him, and now that she was no longer on drugs, or at least her pupils suggested she wasn't, she still had the same blunt edge as before.

"There's no need to be nervous." She looked like she was about to talk, but he abruptly cut her off. "No more interruptions. I've bought a new apartment for you. It's equipped with every alarm on and off the market. I also had this made for you," he tossed a small phone into her lap. "It's equipped with a GPS so I can pinpoint your location at anytime. You can reach me at any time by…No talking, pressing 1 then send."

"I know how to use speed dial," she muttered under her breath.

He approached the bed holding something small in his hand.

"A ring?" she said skeptically.

"It's filled with a narcotic. If you manage to break someone's skin with it, they'll pass out."

"Anything else?"

"Yes," he took the two extra steps closer to the bed, holding what looked to be a gun in his hand. He reached over and grabbed her by the neck. "Lean forward." She complied, but fright was filling up her eyes. They were even more shockingly green up close. He wanted to say something reassuring, but words escaped him. Batman brought the device up, placed it at the base of her neck by her spine, and pulled the trigger. Mystery let out a sharp cry of pain, and stared up accusingly at him.

"That hurt!"

"It's a small chip that will analyze your blood, body temperature, heart rate and any other medical information I might need."

"This is kind of an invasion of privacy, Batman."

"It's only so I can be warned if you don't have time to call."

"Can you tell how fast my heart is beating right now?"

"Yes," she looked incredulous. "But only because I am holding your throat." She gulped, her heart beating faster, and Batman realized he could feel how warm her skin was even through his protective gloves. "Lean back." Her neck came out of his grasp as she relaxed against the pillows. His hand immediately felt cold.

"You know the police can protect me…"

"Not as well as I can."

"But don't you think this is a little excessive?" He hesitated.

"You already gave your life once, you shouldn't have to do it again."

"I'm expendable, you're not. I'm an actress, you protect the whole city."

"And now I protect you."

"Well don't I feel safe," she said sarcastically.

"You need sleep. We have covered all the necessary topics. Rest. You need all the recovery you can get before you're released on Thursday." He turned to leave.

"Don't…" he stopped and turned to face her again. "I can't."

"You can't what?"

"Sleep. I can't sleep," she said looking down at the deadly ring she held in her hands. Batman knew how she felt. She was about to speak again, but she only started to spin the ring between her fingers.

"I'll stay," he said, not believing the words that came out of his mouth. "He can't get you while I am here." She nodded, snuggling into the pillows. Long lashes closed over emerald green and within minutes her breathing had slowed. Batman took one last look at the girl now in his care and flew out the window, but he could still feel her heartbeat against his palms.


	7. Chapter 7

Mystery woke up at exactly 11:03. The pain in her throat had all but vanished and the pain killers kept her from noticing the gashes across her stomach. She still wasn't used to waking up in a hospital room, the stark white walls were blinding with the reflection of sunlight. She ran her hand behind her neck as she did every morning but was surprised to find a small lump the size of a grain of rice on the left side of her neck. The talk from last night came rushing back to her, and smeared her hand over her eyes as she remembered all the idiot things she had said to Gotham's dark knight. She hoped that he thought she was still drugged up. If he thought she was sane and spoke like such an idiot… she was humiliated.

"Miss," said a nurse as she poked her head through the door. "I just wanted to remind you that you have an interview at twelve. Would you like me to bring you some food before hand?"

"Yes, thank you," she said with a smile. The small woman nodded, smiling as well and left the room in search of something to feed the woman called Mystery. "Crap, interviews." She moaned to no one. Realizing she would be revealing her identity to all of Gotham within the hour, she picked up a small sleek cell phone from the bedside table, and called the only person who would care that she was in the hospital. One ring, two rings.

"Dad?"

"Natalie? What number is this?"

"It's a new cell phone, Dad. You might want to save the number. Hey, have you been watching the news lately?"

"Yeah, it's buzzing about some girl who got attacked by the Joker. Apparently she's horribly scarred now, but the police are doing everything to save her. She's… Oh, Natalia, please tell me that's not you. You did say you bought an apartment in the Upper East Side, but that was years ago…" he trailed off, hoping his daughter would fill in the blanks.

"Well I just got back a couple of days ago to rest from my last tour, and…well… I meant to call sooner, but I've been so drugged up..."

"Natalie Maia Burke, you didn't have the hospital contact me when you were cut up by that Joker fanatic! You've been there 2 days! You could have died!"

"Well, Batman didn't really save me while I had ID, no one knew who I was, and I didn't want to bring you into it in case the Joker tried to kill you too, and I didn't want to worry you…" she ended lamely.

"I understand you're reasoning, sweetie, but you're being bloody idiotic. I'm your father, while you've been off traipsing around the world, I don't forget about you! I worry! And now I find out that you've been attacked in Gotham, and you don't even tell me!"

"Dad, I'm sorry, but I couldn't risk you getting hurt." She heard muttering and cursing in about five different languages from the other end of the phone, but she knew at last she'd been able to reason with him.

"I've been wondering who this woman, Mystery, is for the last two days and only for about three seconds when I heard the initial report did I think it would be my daughter in that lovely apartment I'd paid for, but I thought, no, my Natalie would call if ever something went so terribly wrong. She'd called me homesick from Singapore and Marseilles, so she'd definitely call if she'd been mutilated!"

"Dad, I'm sorry. How many times do you want me to say it?"

"I think about three more will do it," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered back.

"When are visiting hours?" he said, back to his business like self.

"Well I have an interview in about half an hour, but after that I am all free. They'll let Mystery's father visit!" she said with a watery chuckle.

"They'd better. I've donated enough money over the years to Gotham's hospitals, that I think I can swing it without the unusual honor of being Mystery's father."

"You're always throwing your money around, Dad."

"And so are you," he laughed. "I'll see you later this afternoon and don't let that interviewer push you around…" Natalie started to tune him out. The nurse had just arrived with brunch, and the red jell-o was looking especially appetizing. "Keep things off the record, don't give too much away."

"Got it, Dad. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye sweetheart."

Food had never tasted so good. After being attacked and drugged and having various night time encounters with a masked vigilante, red jell-o and about the fakest looking bacon she had ever seen, tasted like heaven. She ate everything on her plate and even buzzed the nurse to ask if she could scrounge up some more food. The woman smiled, nodded and bustled out. Finally alone again, Natalie aka Mystery picked up the small black phone to make an entirely different call. She pressed one and waited for the Bat-man to pick up.

"What?" came the groggy answer.

"Oh sorry," she stuttered. "I thought you'd be awake. I'll hang up now…"

"Well, I'm awake now," he said grumpily. Natalie wasn't sure that superheroes were allowed to sound grumpy. "What's the matter?"

"Well, I'm going to release my name to the press any moment and since my reign as being Mystery is over and I have to go back to being a normal human being with a normal name and a normal background. Well I wouldn't say I'm normal I guess…"

"Stop babbling," he commanded.

"I… My father. He lives here and well, I'm not sure if you could, but…"

"What's his name?"

"Charlie Burke."

"The architect? You're his daughter? I thought she died."

"Well I almost did, but no thanks to you." She thought she heard a snort from the other end but couldn't be sure. She was pretty sure that if superheroes weren't allowed to be grumpy they sure as hell weren't allowed to snort.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, I…" but Batman was no longer on the other end. "appreciate it," was said to dial tone.

"Well I am glad you're well enough to make phone calls," said an immaculately dressed woman from the doorway. "Vicki Vale," she said, reaching out her hand. "I'm your twelve."

"Mystery," said Natalie smiling, suddenly feeling small and rather ugly. She hadn't looked that good since the premiere of a play about 4 months ago.

"So you're going to remain with the nickname and not reveal your true identity?" asked Vicki raising a perfect red eyebrow.

"Well I thought I'd introduce myself with it one last time," she said with a genuine smile. "I suppose I could start using as a stage name, Natalie Mystery has kind of a ring to it."

"So you're Natalie. Natalie…?" She was quickly pulling out a small tape recorder from her purse.

"Natalie Maia Burke," she said with confidence.

"I've seen you as Juliet and Viola!" said Vicki with surprise. "It's interesting to see you without Renaissance dress," she laughed. Natalie joined her.

"Yeah, it does throw people off to see me in hospital gowns and not speaking in Olde English, but I do exist outside of Shakespeare. I actually just got back from doing some Kabuki in Japan." Vicki was mildly interested, but she was here on business not a social call to one of the world's best new stage actresses.

"So have you spoken with the Bat-man?" Natalie noticed the gleam in Vicki's eyes and heard her father's warning in her head.

"Nope, I was completely unconscious when he found me half dead in my shower, and I haven't seen him since."

"Are you thankful?"

"Of course!" Natalie said, wondering what kind of questions would follow. "I only wish he had had time to catch the Joker."

"You were sacrificing yourself then?"

"Yes." Vicki was surprised at the honesty. Everyone she'd interviewed on Batman in the last month had been full of shit. She never thought she'd be faced with an actual hero. "When the Joker showed up in my shower, I was terrified, but this calm just came over me and I knew I had to hold his attention until Batman could show up."

"You trusted in a vigilante, cop-killer?"

"Well, the way I saw it, I was going to die anyways. I might as well have a reason to go. It's not over until the fat lady sings," she shuddered almost imperceptibly, but after a career of finding dirt Vicki noticed the terror that stole into the girl's green eyes. "And I wasn't going to let some terrorist determine my death."

"You're quite brave," said Vicki with something close to awe in her voice. "You can't be more than 20…"

"Twenty-one, actually," interrupted Mystery.

"And yet you were willing to lay down your life?"

"Well there weren't a lot of options. I mean, with the Joker it's either death or death. If I had struggled and shown weakness I would have been killed faster, but while he was torturing me he was at least stationary and not planning."

"You seem to have a grasp of the Joker's mentality."

"Not really," said the girl shaking her head. "I just knew what I had to do. Maybe not everyone would have done it, but equally heroic acts have been done by normal people. The Batman wasn't always a Bat."

"It's said he has supernatural powers. He can fly and kill people with a glance. It's said he can't be killed!" Vicki was surprised yet again by this slip of a girl as she shook her head again.

"No, Batman used to be just a man, before he decided to help Gotham. Sure he may be cleverer and more inventive than the rest of us, but he's just a man."

"Well then how do you suppose he gets around the city? How do you think he handles criminals so effectively?"

"A really good network of trap doors and martial arts."

"You seem to know more than you are letting on," Vicki said suspiciously.

"I merely hypothesize, Miss Vale," both women turned around to footsteps in the hallway. A very distinguished gentleman in a perfectly tailored suit stood out the door. He flashed a swoon worthy smile at the red head and the honey haired patient.

"Mr. Burke!" said Vale leaping out of her chair proffering her hand.

"Hello Miss Vale, lovely to see you again."

"Sorry, Vicki," said Natalie beaming. "But my one-thirty has just arrived." Vicki left with smiles and promises of a follow up interview, but as soon as she reached the tiled hallway a thoughtful scowl crossed her features. Vicki had some research to do about Gotham's favorite architect's daughter.


	8. Chapter 8

Bruce was still staring at what Alfred had dubbed the Bat phone. The girl lying in hospital room 315 was the daughter of Charlie Burke. Burke had designed buildings all over Gotham from his one of a kind mansion to Wayne Tower. Bruce had even hired the man to design the very building that that man's daughter was lying in. He flung back the covers and tossed the phone onto a nearby chair. He crossed the room and sat down at a stately desk. After flipping open a top of the line laptop and typing in Charlie Burke in Google's search engine, he scrolled through the hits until finding a summary that looked to be a biography. He clicked on the link.

Charles Edward Burke (1948- Present): A well known architect in Gotham city, Charles Edward Burke has devoted his life to redesigning the once drab and rundown ghettos of Gotham. His work can be viewed in any skyline of the city with his most notable accomplishments being the new Wayne Tower, the Gotham Theatre, and his own unique mansion on the edge of the city. A humanitarian and perfectionist, Burke came from humble beginnings. Born and raised in Gotham at the age of 18 he decided to try his luck abroad and studied at the École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts. There he met his wife Jacqueline, an aspiring artist. He spent many years in France, but after his designs were rejected again and again by French contractors because they were too American. He returned to the United States to make his mark upon his home city.

Bruce skipped down through the rest of the article coming to the short paragraph about Burke's family. There was a recount of Burke's happy years of marriage and how his wife and himself had had problems conceiving, but in 1987 their hopes and prayers had been answered and they had been blessed with a daughter, Natalie Maia. Bruce was surprised to see that Mystery's name was a link to a new page. He clicked, and next to a gorgeous headshot of a girl with green eyes was everything he had ever wanted to know about the girl formerly known as Mystery.

Natalie Maia Burke (1978-Present): From her stage debut in elementary school, Natalie Maia Burke has been wowing audiences ever since. Hailed as the Best Young Stage Actress (The New York Times), Natalie has preformed in plays, musicals, and most recently Kabuki. Versatile and stunning her main focus is in Shakespeare where she has brought such characters as Juliet, Katarina, and Viola to jaw dropping reality. Although born in Nice, France, Natalie considers Gotham her home town. She moved to the city when she was five years old and until her graduation from high school was a permanent resident there. She signed for a world tour of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet when she was 18 and has been bouncing around the globe ever since.

Bruce scrolled through the article learning that she had tried out for the part of Lucy in "Across the Universe" but that her film audition had been so horrible she hadn't been cast. An interviewer had asked her about it and Bruce was astounded yet again by her candour. "I just laughed when she Julie Taymor told me the reason I hadn't gotten the role was because I kept cheating out. Of course I was disappointed, but I was meant for the stage." She had also been denied many parts by her long time director and friend Henri Duchamps. "I specifically asked to play Ophelia, but he told me I was too young and too cute. I hate backhanded compliments," she had said to a _Theatre Weekly_ reporter. There were few flops listed on her impressive list of performances. She had starred as Sandy in Grease, Juliet in Romeo and Juliet and had even starred as Belle in Disney's Beauty and the Beast between Shakespearian roles. She'd preformed in London, Tokyo, Sydney, New York, Paris, et cetera. It seemed as if she had been to every continent and visited every major city. The critics raved about her and in only 4 years she had carved a name for herself in show business.

Bruce was impressed. He had thought that her defiance of the Joker had been a onetime thing, but it appeared that she denied convention in every way. Throughout the biography her father was ever present, coming to her premieres and supporting her jet setting lifestyle. Bruce was surprised to not see her mother show up, and when he scrolled back to Natalie's early years he found that her mother had died when she was only 10 years old. She was also an only child, but the article suggested that her father and herself were far closer than most.

He was just about to exit the window when he stumbled upon a heading titled Relationships.

"Over the past couple years Burke has been attributed with several stars. She briefly dated her would-be-costar Jim Sturgess while she was in London, but they broke up soon after she left for New York to play Belle. She was later seen in the arms of Elijah Kelley at the cast party after the opening of Beauty and the Beast. They remained an item for about a year but after a very public break-up, Burke fled to Japan and was consoled by the famous Kabuki actor Jomei Kano. Their representatives maintain that they are just friends even when Kano got Burke a small part in his upcoming Kabuki play."

Bruce didn't know where it came from, but a slow stream of jealousy swept through his veins. He hadn't felt this way since seeing Rachel with Harvey Dent. She looked so innocent, he couldn't believe that she had already had her heart broken and repaired. He couldn't stand the thought of her getting hurt or of her being with other men. His thoughts turned violent, thinking of how Batman could conveniently make Kano disappear.

"You look as if you're going to rip someone's head off, Master Wayne," said Alfred calmly, carrying in Bruce's breakfast. The billionaire shook his head trying to clear plans of flying to Japan from his head.

"I'm fine. Just experiencing a little," he paused. "Jealousy." He said with wonderment.

"Jealousy, Master Wayne?" Alfred glanced at the laptop screen and saw the picture of Natalie. "Is that the girl you rescued?" Bruce nodded, staring again at the picture. "You never mentioned she was beautiful, and you were right about before." Bruce looked up at the butler questioningly. "She looks like the type who wouldn't care if you picked her up in the Batmobile." They both smiled conspiratorially at each other, and Bruce picked up his green protein shake and drank deeply from it.

"She does look a little mischievous," said Bruce, glancing again at the picture.

"Definitely, Sir, but she also looks a little young. Isn't she Charlie Burke's daughter?"

"How did you know?"

"She's got exactly her mother's eyes." Alfred said. "She came with her husband to a function at this house a year before she died. Everyone agreed that Jacqueline had the most beautiful eyes."

"Fell in love at first sight, did you Alfred?"

"Oh no, Master Wayne, I can appreciate a beautiful set of eyes just as much as the next person." Bruce laughed again. He was about to bite into the scrambled eggs Alfred had prepared when an alarm began ringing through the house. Bruce rushed over to a bookcase on the opposite wall and after fumbling through a couple of titles, a trap door slid open, and he hurried down to the improvements in the south east corner.

Bruce, usually full of grace, stumbled over to the monitors. He was sick with worry and a sort of panic raced through him when he saw that the hospital had been broken into just seconds before. He keyed in a password and looked at the stats on Natalie's monitor. Her heartbeat was normal and so were her adrenaline levels. He calmed, maybe a child had pulled an alarm thinking it would be fun. He buried his head into his hands. This was getting out of control. It was dangerous for someone like him to have feelings, let alone have… well whatever he had… for Natalie Burke. Shaking his head he glanced up at the computer screens yet again, and what he saw nearly froze the blood in his veins. Natalie's heartbeat had spiked along with her adrenaline levels and blood pressure. He slid the chair over to another monitor and quickly hacked into the security cameras at Dawes Hospital, and there in room 315 with a very wealthy architect and a beautiful actress was the Joker.

"Good afternoon, lady and gentleman," said the Joker to two very shocked faces. "I've come to collect something of mine."

"And what would that be?" said Charlie Burke, rising from the chair that he had pulled up beside Natalie's bed. He unconsciously placed himself between the Joker and his daughter.

"That would be my calling card, fine sir," stated the madman with a comical bow. "Sadly for you and Mystery, it's etched into her flesh. Therefore you have one of two options. I take the girl with me or you watch as I cut it from her."

"Natalie, hit the call button," said her father calmly.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that… Natalie is it? Mystery suits you…"

"Why not?" said the girl in question, her slender fingers hovering over the button.

"I rigged it to a set of bombs. You push that and the children's ward goes up in smoke."


	9. Chapter 9

Batman had never gotten in the Batmobile and put on his suit so quickly. He was halfway between rage and panic and whichever way his emotions swung didn't bode well for the transmission in the Batmobile. He had statistics running constantly across the screens in front of him while he drove. Information about the building's height, the amount of explosives needed to blow it down, how many guards were posted, where the closest police station was, how many people were in the rooms surrounding room 315. Batman was going to have every detail before taking on the Joker. He had underestimated the psychopath before, that had lost him Rachel, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let the Joker kill Gotham's premiere actress and her father.

The odds scrolled across about the possibility of making a third story entry, and they weren't good. In the evening without an attacker in the room, Batman could make the jump no problem, but with the Joker all bets were off and his sudden appearance could make the Joker act even more irrationally than usual. Plus the window entry left him more vulnerable and left him the farthest away from Natalie. He would have to enter through the door to the hallway or… he scrolled back seeing that 314 had no patients in it.

"Gordon," rasped the Batman.

"Calling Commissioner Gordon," intoned the car's female automated system.

"Commissioner Gordon," answered James.

"The Joker has broken into Dawes hospital room 315," stated Batman.

"I know. The alarm went off. I'm sending a squad to surround the building."

"Can you convince them to not shoot at me?"

"No problem," said Gordon without hesitation. "They think you're kind of a softy now, saving that girl and everything, turns out she's quite famous and quite beautiful."

"I know," said Batman. If Gordon hadn't known better, he would have thought the masked man had smiled.

"Could you at least…" Commissioner Gordon was tired of talking to Batman's dial tone.

With all tires screeching, Batman quickly reached the top of the parking garage; putting the Tumbler II into jump mode and backing to the very back of the top level, he accelerated the car and pushed the button when about to lift off the side of the parking structure. The Batmobile landed with a loud thump on the top of the hospital. It took less than thirty seconds for Batman to locate the right side of the building, anchor the cable and lower himself down the building to the 3rd floor. He casually smashed in the window to 314 and blew up the wall between him and Natalie, but when the dust cleared, instead of seeing the Joker under a heap of rubble, there was empty space.

A distinguished looking man was ductaped to a chair placed directly next to the bed. The bed however was empty, and the man's face looked frightened and worried. While striding across the room to the man, he keyed in the codes to the chip inside Natalie. An automated voice began reading vital statistics into his earpiece, but he stopped listening after the first which said her heart rate was 180/ 60. High but alive. He didn't have time to waste so he simply ripped the duct tape off Charlie Burke's mouth.

"What happened?" although his voice was low and demanding he waited for the architect to regain his breath and composure.

"The Joker came in, said he needed his calling card back, said if we hit the call button it'd blow up the children's side. Natalie," with this his eyes welled up. "Said she'd go with him, gave him a whole long speech how he wasn't to hurt me, he had to just leave me or she'd fling herself out the window. The Joker called her bluff, but he still complied and left me here."

"And…?"

"He grabbed her, then shot up the window and he pulled her out." Batman ran over to the window. There was a baffled crew of police officers and a large hole in the pavement. "There was a huge explosion, but I couldn't see anything else." Batman nodded, then jumped out the window, into Gotham's sewers and after the most depraved mind in the city.

Natalie was trying everything to walk more slowly. She lolled against the Joker, clutching at him for support. He had slapped her around a couple of times, but had basically been impressed with her ploy.

"Now you can't fool me, Natalie," he'd said. "I may be insane, but I still know how to tell when a woman is faking." He'd cackled, pulled out a knife, and was now running behind her. She had to sprint just to keep from getting impaled. Her feet were getting cut on rocks and various other bits and pieces found the Gotham's dark sewers. Her stomach was burning and blood was running down her forearm from where an IV had been hastily ripped from her body. The only thing that kept her running was fear of the knife and pure adrenaline. They probably looked more than comical, or at the very least like something from a slasher movie. The Joker was dressed in aqua scrubs flailing a knife and she in her hospital gown and fly away hair looked the epitome of the girl who ended up dead five seconds from when the audiences were screaming, "Turn around!"

Just as she thought her legs were going to fall off and her stomach was going to burst open, they rounded a corner and a small vehicle loomed up out of the darkness. It looked like a golf cart, but more sophisticated. There was a machine gun strapped to the side and spikes on the front bumper. The engine protruded from the small hood and Natalie had a feeling it was more than the recommended horsepower for a cart that size. It looked sadistic and eerie, and made Natalie wonder how long the Joker had been roaming Gotham's sewers in the souped up parody of a golf cart. She collapsed into the passenger seat.

"Get out," asserted the man with white face paint.

"What?" said Natalie shakily.

"Aww, how naïve. You didn't think you actually got a ride did you?" Natalie looked bewildered and the Joker cackled. "I said your father could watch as I cut it from you, or I could take you with me. Did you think I'd throw you and a prison and have it over with?" Something in Natalie's face must have alerted him to the fact that that's exactly what she had been thinking. "There are other ways to get it off," he pointedly looked down at her bleeding feet.

"That cart is not very big. If you drag me behind it you're only going to be slowing yourself down. The Batman is coming so that's probably not a very good idea." The Joker advanced on the girl slumped in the passenger seat.

"That will only make things more interesting." She tried to scramble away from him, but he was too quick and she had been lying in a hospital bed too long. He grabbed her by her tangled honey hair and heaved her to the back of the cart. Throwing her to the ground he pulled out a small coil of rope from his pocket. Momentarily dazed by the impact of the floor Natalie lay still for a couple of seconds, then realizing the Joker had to catch hold of a wrist or foot to be able to tie her to the vehicle she began to fight against his hold and army crawl away from the crazed killer. The Joker landed a hard kick into the J etched on her stomach and she curled into a ball on the floor. He easily grabbed one wrist and although she struggled when he grabbed for the second, another swift kick left her gasping and limp on the cold rocks.

With deftness the purple suited maniac had tied Natalie to the back of his small cart. He pulled her to her feet and tested the strength of the knots by pulling on the rope.

"Yep," he stated matter of factly, like he was testing the knots to his shoelaces. "That should hold. He pulled out the knife that had caused Natalie so much pain only days before. She shied away from the menacing blade, but he only used it to cut the gown from her body.

"Now that won't do," he said, glancing down at the bandages around her middle. He tugged on her hair forcing her head backwards and her stomach to arch towards him with his free hand he ripped the gauze and medical tape from her pale skin. She let out a yelp of pain, and tried to get away from the Joker's leering gaze.

"Why are you doing this?" she panted out. The angle of her head was making it hard for her to talk. "You've already tortured me once. I thought you were all about cheap thrills and easy kills. This doesn't exactly seem like your style."

"Chaos is my style, Natalie. By stealing you singlehandedly from the hospital, I have proven myself, yet again better than the cops and the Batman." He made an all encompassing gesture with his hands.

"But you've already done that!"

"Very true… I just said that, but what I haven't done is tortured a victim twice." Natalie gulped loudly, trying not to scream for help or mercy. "I also haven't left someone with my calling card alive, and that's not a trend I want to expand on. Makes the people of Gotham think I made a mistake, that I can't follow up on my promises, and you are too fun of a prey to not follow up on my promises. I couldn't just let the Batman have you. Seeing how we're so alike, I almost wanted to suggest that we share you. I could butcher you up and he could fix you, but I enjoy the pleasure of the kill, and trust me, Natalie, the pleasure will be all mine." He bowed comically and he was surprised to see her do a rough imitation of a curtsy in return.

He calmly walked to the front of the cart trying to scare the girl. She had been pretty unshakable and he couldn't wait to see what she'd do next. He turned the key in the ignition and the cart started to move forward, slowly at first then picking up speed. There were no screams, no moans, in fact he couldn't even hear that lovely little body thumping on the pavement. He glanced over his shoulder and he could see her hands holding onto the place where he'd tied them. He'd forgotten there was a small bumper below that. Clever girl, she'd tucked herself away from harm, but the Joker was never without a bag of tricks.

Something sprang out of the cart next to Natalie's right thigh. Small jacks were jingling on the back bumper beside her feet, but something wasn't right. Over the noise of the cart she could hear them hissing, and they were hot. Explosives. She vaulted over the small silver bar her hands were tied to and into the back seat. She breathed a small sigh of relief at not being blown up when a backhanded slap and a sharp kick sent her spinning out of the back of the cart. She collided with the cobbled floor hip first, and after the initial shock the real pain began. There were no clothes to shield her from the jagged ground and her skin tore like paper. She turned to her stomach, her arms tired from holding her whole body sideways through the twists and turns, and Natalie screamed in pain as stitches were grated off and healing wounds were torn open. Just as she thought she'd pass out from the pain, something silver narrowly missed her head and thudded into the back of the cart and through the rope that tied her to it. She barely made out the shape of a bat before the cart raced on and she was left tied, bleeding, in the middle of the sewer.

A black shape loomed out of the darkness, but Natalie was too battered to shy away from the shadow. Calm swept over Mystery as she recognized the large silhouette of a man that slightly resembled a bat.

"What took you so long?" she moaned, then fainted.

Batman was still panting from the breakneck run; he'd raced through the tunnels to find Natalie and the Joker. If he hadn't remembered that the chip in her neck had very precise tracking abilities he would never have been able to gain on them. He hadn't been thinking when he'd jumped into the hole after her. He should have known that the Joker would have some means of transportation. Not even the Joker was insane enough to steal a person from under Gotham's police force and Batman without a very good escape plan. Luckily the highly calibrated GPS in the chip and the layout of the sewer were easily accessible from the suit, and it was even luckier that he had good aim.

This time it was harder to ignore the naked state of the actress. Her legs were long and she was just pale enough to emit an ethereal glow. Her hair was tangled but instead of looking terrible it looked tousled and dare he say… sexy. Although Batman had not seen scores of gorgeous naked women, Bruce Wayne was enough of an aficionado for both himself and his night prowling alter ego, and none of the women held a candle to the battered and bruised Natalie lying before him. She had a cut lip and was scratched from hip to ankle on her left side. Her stomach was also pretty torn up, but her chest only had a couple of minor scratches. The word "smile" was still clearly visible on Natalie's collarbone, and just seeing it made Batman's blood boil. He wanted to tear after the Joker and pound him to a pulp, but victims came first, vigilante action, only after the wounds had been bandaged.

For the second time that week, he picked the girl up off the floor. This time he used more care, he bundled his cloak around her so when he appeared in broad daylight she wouldn't be naked in front of thousands of reporters. He also didn't want them to see all of Natalie; he was still mad at that Japanese punk for seeing all of Natalie. As he walked back through the creepy tunnels, he kept a close eye on Mystery. Her color was still good and her breathing still even. He didn't think she'd need to go back to the hospital. Instead he'd take her to the only place that was still safe, and he'd keep her there until he'd caught the Joker. He didn't care if it was archaic and medieval to lock a girl up in a prison so nothing would harm her. He couldn't keep worrying like this. It dulled his intellect and made him headstrong.

Batman climbed the ladder to the waiting crowd and with extreme effort, pushed back the manhole with one hand while cradling Natalie against his body with the other, and Alfred said the pushups weren't helping. He ignored the flash of cameras, the barrage of questions and launched himself and his precious bundle onto the roof. Depositing, the actress carefully in the passenger seat and climbed in.

The reporters watching below gasped as one moment Gotham's saver of damsels in distress was there and the next moment he wasn't. The tank-like car, the girl and the caped crusader vanished like smoke, and all those left on the ground could do is wonder at what had happened below their feet, but Vicki Vale, a perfectly manicured hand shielding her eyes from the sun, looked back into the hospital. She was going to hear the father's story and then tramp through the sewers for clues if she had to. She was going to find out what Mystery aka Natalie Burke knew and she was going to write the most ground breaking story on the Bat-man that Gotham had ever read.


	10. Chapter 10

Four packages of gauze, 546 stitches, a bottle of iodine, 2 doses of morphine, and Natalie Maia Burke was finally all bandaged up. It had taken Alfred and Bruce nearly 4 hours of uninterrupted work to close all the wounds that had been inflicted by the Joker. Both were slumped up against chairs, Bruce by the computer screens and Alfred in a small folding one next to the metal "operating table." Sweat dripped down each man's forehead and for a few minutes they sat and listened to the steady beat of the girl's heart and reveled in the fact that they'd saved a life.

"She's going to need extensive plastic surgery to get rid of all those scars," said Alfred somberly. Bruce merely nodded, too tired to talk. "You need sleep, Master Wayne." Bruce shook his head. "What more can you do?"

"I have to find her father," he rasped out. He pushed himself up off the chair, so he was yet again on his feet. "The Joker will try to capture him, so he can get Natalie out in the open. She'll give up her life for his in a heartbeat." Alfred wanted to protest and say that it could wait, but he knew too well how clever the Joker was and how quickly he operated. He watched sadly as Bruce stripped off his Dolce and Gabbana suit, wanting his charge to sleep and not carry the weight of Gotham on his shoulders. He painstakingly eased himself out of the chair and over to the man he had looked after for most of his adult life. Alfred assisted Mr. Wayne with the batsuit and carefully folded his discarded designer clothing.

"Drive safe, Master Wayne," said the butler with a quirk of his lips.

"I always try to, Alfred," said the Batman. He looked back over his shoulder where the green-eyed beauty lay drugged. "Watch her. Don't let her do anything stupid."

"Of course, sir." Batman climbed into the vehicle and sped out of the underground tunnel.

"Gordon," he commanded his car for the second time that day. The car quickly dialed and within a couple of rings Commissioner James Gordon answered his phone.

"What's up?" he answered tiredly.

"She's stable, in a safe place. Finally got her all patched up," Batman heard Gordon let out a sigh of relief, and although he couldn't see him, he had a feeling his ally was just as stressed and worn out as he was. "What's the situation with the Joker?"

"My men scoured the sewers starting from the locations you gave me. They've looked everywhere, there's no sign of that lunatic." Batman hadn't counted on the cops to find the Joker, but it was nice to know that they at least trusted Batman's tips again. "There was a lot of blood on the floor, are you sure she shouldn't be in the hospital?"

"He can get her there. I need her where I know she'll be out of harm." Gordon didn't say anything, but Batman still knew he was nodding. "Where can I find Charlie Burke?"

"We took him for questioning. He's at the MCU." Gordon had other points to bring up, but he knew that the Bat-man had already hung up. At least he was getting better at reading the masked man. "Some reporter went with him…Her name was Vicki." He said to the empty line, if the man couldn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation then he deserved a press conference with Gotham's nosiest reporter.

Vicki had heard the Charlie Burke's whole tragic story. The girl had been kidnapped and obviously Batman had saved her again. The whole routine was becoming old. A Pulitzer prize was not to be won on the pathetic stories of rescue. She needed something groundbreaking. A story that would bring shock and awe to all who read it would have to be based on a great event, 

a great… unmasking. She sashayed through the halls of the station, turning the head of male cop who glanced her way. She entered the elevator and stared out the beautiful glass windows when through the darkening sky flew an even blacker shape. The Batman.

She hit the button that held the doors open and fled the elevator. Her red heels clicked on the highly polished floor and if she hadn't done this a couple of times before. Breaking news waited for no one. If she had known she would be chasing the Batman around Central she would have forsaken the sexiness of high heels and opted for the far less attractive tennis shoes. She slid around the corner, only guessing that the Batman could want to talk to Charlie Burke, and there in front of the architect was the man whose identity was a mystery. The midlevel cop who was trying to get the man's statement, gaped at the caped intruder.

"I'm only here to talk," intoned the low voice. The cop started to reach for his gun. "I wouldn't do that," threatened the man. Vicki inched a perfectly manicured hand into her purse. She clicked on her tape recorded and slid it out of the Gucci bag.

"What have you done with my daughter?" asked Burke. Strength had returned to his haggard face and he was determined to have his pride and joy returned to him.

"What I thought best," stated Batman calmly.

"I want you to return her to me."

"So the Joker can kill her?"

"No, so she won't be in the hands of a cop killer." The Bruce Wayne still left in Batman wanted to yell that he hadn't killed those cops, that he and not Harvey, was the hero, but the silent protector won over his Wayne pride and he took the old man's tirade. "You think you can better guard a twenty-one year old woman than her father? Ask the mobsters. You show no mercy, no compassion. No sane father would leave their child in your care, and I will not. You will remove her from what ever hidden place you have stashed her, and you will return her to me."

"I can't."

"You think I cannot protect my daughter?"

"I think you underestimate the Joker."

"And you know him so well?"

"I know he has no rules, no moral code."

"I know that Batman," he said scathingly. The cop was still sitting his hand halfway to his gun, staring up at the two raging men. "He announced that every second he could when he got air time, but neither do you. I would rather have her with me and take my chances against that freak."

"I don't take chances, not when the stakes are high and the Joker cheats." He grabbed the cell phone he had given Natalie from the cop's desk, ripped off the plastic bag and slid it into his tool belt. "She called you." Charlie Burke nodded. "You can reach her at that number, when she's not sedated."

"You're going to drug my daughter?

"Sedation is better than death."

"You'll never convince Natalie of that," sneered the architect. Batman hesitated, and the father continued. "She'll come to despise you. She's not one to be caged."

"I'm not a jailer," said the vigilante angrily.

"Not now, but you will be. I'm a parent," said Charlie philosophically. "I've wanted to protect her from the day I held her. She's beautiful, talented, but above all she will not be caged. All you'll want to do is protect her and the only way to keep anyone from the world's evils is the 

equivalent of locking them in a tower, but they'll find a way out. Trust me… whoever you are, Natalie is an expert at escaping the tower." The Batman only smiled.

"Good thing it's not a tower." Vicki Vale was dumbfounded, wondering what Batman meant by this casual remark. Charlie Burke stuttered, but before he could argue with the masked figure some more, the man leapt out the window. The cape unfolded into a formidable set of wings, and just like that, he was gone again.

Vicki flipped off her tape recorder. She was going to figure out who Gotham's protector was, and she knew exactly how to do it.


End file.
